To Mourn, To Love, To Heal
by CelestePendragon
Summary: It has been a year since the Battle of Hogwarts. The Order has been rounding up Death Eaters attempting small revival movements. New recruits include Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy. As Hermione works closely with Draco, they discover something more than friendship. But Draco has a tragic past, with secrets that lay buried deep in the earth. Rated M for themes.
1. Prologue

Prologue

First was apathy. He shut himself away and lay on his bed for hours. His mother knocked, of course, but when he didn't answer she left. Later, she pushed sandwiches through the door. He ignored them. He wasn't hungry. He tried to not think about anything, but it didn't work. His thoughts kept sliding back to her, her smile, her laugh. Everything about her.

Then came rage. He yelled, punched walls, and threw things, cursing whatever or whoever had taken her from him. He even found himself yelling at her, asking her why she had left him. He knew it wasn't her fault, but he couldn't help be angry with her. He smashed the photos he had of her against the wall. The pair of them at the Yule Ball, arm in arm, smiling. Their first night as a couple. Her laughing at something he had said, a long forgotten joke. Then there was their night in the snow. Him carrying her in his arms, smiling at each other. The one of them kissing as the snow fell down on them. And his favorite: her upside down on a swing, laughing at the camera.

After that he fell to his knees, breathing hard after the fit of anger. A sob burst from his lips, and before he knew it he was crying harder than he had ever cried. He let out all his tears, all the grief, anger, and hardship of the last 24 hours. He repaired the photos of her. They were all he had left.

His princess. His beautiful, wonderful, smart, musical, kind, adorable Gryffindor princess. His fiery, nasty, stubborn, fierce, warrior princess.

Gone.

He could not wrap his head around the fact that she was _gone_. Not here anymore. He would never hear her laugh again, never make her smile. She would never play piano for him again, and she wouldn't be able to sing to him like she had. He would never hear her say, "I love you," again.

What he wouldn't give to hear her voice just one last time. If he could just talk to her one more time…he could tell her how much she meant, how much she changed his life. Try to express how much he loved her.

He regretted so many things. He regretted never meeting Henry and Ellasyn. He should have comforted her more over Henry. He shouldn't have let her blame herself for that. He regretted not protecting her during the battle. Why did he let her go? He had replayed the moment he had seen her over and over again in his head. Why hadn't he called out? At the time, it was war, and he thought he would see her later, and when it was over. He had never anticipated what had happened, and blamed himself for not calling out to her, not protecting her. But even if he had, he knew she wouldn't have listened. The stubborn fool. And now she was dead.

And he would never see her again.

He had visitors, but he refused them all. Her parents came, but he didn't want to see them. Blaise, Pansy, the remaining three of the newly nicknamed "Golden Four," Kingsley Shacklebolt, and others coming to offer their condolences. Everyone knew that he had been closest to her. Closer than Harry, Ron, and Hermione, even though those four had been inseparable. He knew they were grieving too. Not just for her, but for the others who had died too. He had no one else to grieve for, and no one else to live for. She had been everything. Everything.

His Triabelle Rose Summers.

His Tria.

His princess.


	2. Chapter 1

1 Year Later

Hermione felt herself surrounded by people hugging her, shaking her hand, and congratulating her on a job well done. She smiled back, giving generic, mindless answers. She was distracted, searching for two friends. Finding the first, she called out, hugging the girl who ran over excitedly tightly. Even though Hermione had been away for five weeks, Ginny was still exactly the same.

"How was France?" Ginny asked her as they set out on a walk in the garden. Hermione laughed.

"You make it sound like I was on vacation! I suppose it was nice, but I was mostly concentrating on tracking Death Eaters."

"Of course. And Harry and Ron were bearable?"

"Even more easy to live with than when we were Horcrux hunting. Then again, we didn't have a bit of Voldemort's soul hanging 'round our necks."

Ginny shuddered. "I still can't believe you did that."

"Neither can I," Hermione admitted. "But we couldn't afford to lose it."

"And….Ron?" Ginny asked tentatively. Hermione sighed. She and Ron had been together for about three months after the Battle of Hogwarts, but then realized that the relationship wasn't working with the stress. They had broken it off cordially, but there was some manner of tension.

"All fine," said Hermione. "Better than I expected, actually. It's just like we were before."

"Constant bickering, you mean?" Ginny teased.

Hermione laughed. "Of course!"

"Oi!" came an indignant voice from across the garden. "You talk to Hermione before me?" Ginny turned to see Harry and let out a squeal of delight. She ran to him and they kissed passionately. Hermione smiled and turned to finish her walk alone. She thought she might find the other person she was looking for in the garden. By the roses. She made her way to the back of the garden, where Mrs. Weasley kept her rose bush. And there she saw him.

Draco Malfoy. One of her best friends. Heart-throb of the century.

The magazine _Witch Weekly_ had written about him last month, bringing him national attention as Death-Eater-turned-hero and naming him Britain's most eligible wizard bachelor. His heroic Death Eater hunts and his bewitching good looks all made him fascinating to women, but what cinched his allure was his back story.

What made him irresistible was Tria.

Tria Summers had been Draco's soul mate. They had been perfect together, two pieces of a puzzle. Tria was a tiny blonde with big blue eyes and a personality that was as sweet as ice cream, which was contrasted by a feisty temper paired with fierce loyalty. She was the best singer Hermione knew, and could play piano beautifully. She was adorable, sweet, pretty, and funny. Everyone loved her.

She had been Hermione's best friend, more like a sister. Hermione and Tria had been friends since the Hogwarts Express at their first year. Sorted into Gryffindor together, they had made friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The four had been inseparable. Hermione kept the easily distracted Tria down to earth, Tria brought out the fun in Hermione. The bookworm helped the fashionista in school, while the fashionista helped the bookworm outside of studies. Hermione had never thought the day would come when she couldn't talk to her best friend anytime, anywhere, about anything. Adjusting after Tria's death had been hard for Hermione. She found a lot of comfort in Ginny and Draco.

When Tria and Draco started dating at the Yule Ball in fourth year, the whole school had been thrown into uproar. Instead of bringing the houses closer, the relationship between a well-known Slytherin with suspected Death Eater connections and a popular Gryffindor with known affiliation with the Order of the Phoenix had brought House rivalry even closer to boiling over. At the end of their sixth year, Draco ran off with the Death Eaters and Tria went with her friends on a Horcrux Hunt, both devastated. Hermione would never forget Tria's first week after Draco had left. The bright ray of sunshine she knew changed into a bleak and desolate girl. Tria had gotten over it, of course, staying strong to help Harry on his Horcrux hunt. But she was clearly still not over Draco.

The Battle of Hogwarts had been the climax of Draco and Tria's Romeo and Juliet tragedy. Tria had been slain by Voldemort, leaving everyone who knew her devastated. Harry, Ron, and Hermione grieved together and healed slowly. Things between them were almost back to normal, though her absence was always felt. Draco, however, still hadn't gotten over the loss.

Hermione and Draco had developed a tentative friendship at first, bonded by loss and a desire for revenge. Then they discovered that they had much in common. Draco was more studious than Hermione would have suspected, and after the war was less prone to blood prejudice. Eventually, the two had become good friends. At one point, Hermione even developed feelings for Draco. But that had passed, because she knew he would never get over Tria.

He didn't seem to notice as she went up to him, because he was staring at the roses. She knew why he was here. It was his Tria place. And she knew he was in a state of melancholy and regret.

"She loved roses," Draco said as he finally became aware of her presence. "White ones were her favorite. I was going to put a wedding ring on a single white rose in a bouquet of red roses."

"You're never going to get over her, are you?" Hermione asked quietly, though she knew the answer. He shook his head.

"How could I? Everything I see makes me think of her. Whether she liked or disliked it, whether she would have liked or disliked it. I think about what she would have said about everything. Other girls….either I don't see them or all I can think about is how they're not her. How different they are from her." He paused. "I went on one date. One. Her name was Andrea Brown, and I didn't even last a quarter of an hour. Everything she did or said, even the way she looked, all I could think about was how she wasn't _her_. I got up and left after twelve minutes of comparing the two."

"Draco," Hermione said. "You haven't laughed in a year, you've smiled maybe twice, you barely talk, and you're obsessed with catching Death Eaters. Maybe it's time to move on."

Draco shook his head. "I have to catch Death Eaters. I have to put them all in prison, or let them die. It's the only thing that helps, because it helps me to feel like I'm avenging her death."

Hermione was quiet for a moment. "I don't think I can understand," she said slowly, after a minute or so, "because Tria was just my friend. My closest friend, yes, and more like a sister, but to you…to you she was everything."

"She was the only reason I had for living," Draco whispered. "She was everything."

"And I had other reasons, other friends," Hermione continued. "We all did. Except you."

Draco nodded. He sighed, stood up straighter, and said, "Well, it's good to have you back, Hermione. Thank you for trying to understand."

Hermione put her hand on his arm. "Just try to remember that you're not the only one who lost her."

He hugged her tightly. "I've missed you more than I thought I would have over these past weeks."

Hermione hugged him back. "I missed you two. Harry and Ron are great, but they just aren't you."

Draco almost half-smiled, but couldn't quite manage it. He didn't say it, but Hermione knew exactly what he was thinking.

'And you just aren't Tria.'


	3. Chapter 2

Later that evening, Hermione and Draco had been assigned to washing dishes together. They stood side by side at the sink, elbows touching, Hermione washing and Draco drying.

"So," he said, starting their conversation, "how was France?"

"Fine," Hermione said, scrubbing a cup absentmindedly. "The Death Eaters were hiding in the north, trying to pull up another pureblood-supremacy movement. They fought. Hard. But when we managed to subdue four of them the rest surrendered. They were all cowards. They're in Azkaban now, awaiting trial."

Draco nodded. "And France itself?"

Hermione laughed. "I wasn't on vacation, Draco! But I suppose it was beautiful. The countryside was lovely, and we even saw a bit of Paris. It was beautiful."

Draco's face tightened, and Hermione suddenly remembered why. Tria had loved Paris; her family had owned an apartment in the city in order to visit it whenever they wanted.

"It's true," Hermione whispered. "Everything reminds you of her."

"Everything," Draco whispered, still not looking at Hermione. "Absolutely everything."

They were silent for a few moments, lost in recollections of the girl they had both lost. Hermione tentatively began conversation again. "What did we miss when we were gone?"

"Not much," Draco said. "Pansy and Blaise caught Rodolphus Lestrange. He was on the run, hiding both from the law and from other Death Eaters. He's in prison now, and I think he's a bit glad to be there. He abandoned, the battle, see."

Hermione nodded. That sort of thing was resulted in death among Voldemort's followers. Abandonment was a top crime, and you paid the ultimate price.

"Other than that, not too much happened here," Draco conceded. As he put away the final plate, he turned and offered her something that had become incredibly rare: a smile. "Let's go take a walk."

Hermione smiled back, glad to see something that she hadn't seen in a long time, something that happened so little since Tria's death.

They walked through the garden, absentmindedly and slowly. There was mostly silence between them, but it was a comfortable silence, one of two friends who are simply glad to be together. Hermione was glad to be friends with Draco. Their friendship hadn't particularly surprised Hermione. If Tria could get along with Draco, why couldn't she? Then again, Tria was—had been—an extrovert who could make friends with a tree, while Hermione preferred books to actual people.

Hermione broke the silence. "When's your next mission?"

"I'm not sure," Draco said, watching a garden gnome. "Kingsley said something about partners…I'm not quite sure what he meant, but I didn't like it. I prefer to work alone."

Hermione nodded. "I know. You work better that way. But wouldn't it be nice to have someone watching your back?"

"No," Draco said. "I like the risk of being on your own."

"I'm the opposite," Hermione admitted. "I like having people behind me, watching, making sure there's nothing sneaking up on me."

Draco nodded. "I get why you would feel that way." He pointed off into the sunset. "Look. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Lovely," Hermione agreed. They stood there for many minutes, simply watching the sunset. Hermione sensed that Draco was remembering Tria, and as she looked at his face she knew she was right. He had an expression of pain and grief etched into his features.

"Let's go back inside before it gets too dark out," she murmured. Draco nodded, seeming to snap back to reality. The two meandered their way back through the garden. Draco plucked a single lily from the plant, and handed it to Hermione, who took it, touched.

When they returned to the kitchen, Kingsley, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Delaney Summers (Tria's mother) were deep in discussion.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, worried.

"Nothing more alarming than usual," Kinsley told her reassuringly. "We've found a group of five Death Eaters hiding out in Scotland. We think Jugson and Crabbe are among them."

"Jugson…." Hermione thought for a moment. "He was at the Department of Mysteries! He nearly killed Tria!"

Delaney nodded, her eyes narrowed lethally. Hermione remember that the witch, though as tiny as her daughter and growing in years, was known as one of the decade's best duelers. "I remember. And he's going to pay."

"We need a team of two to take them down," Kingsley continued. "We were hoping Harry and Ron could do it, but they just asked for time off." He looked at Hermione and Draco, an expression of sudden intrigue on his face. "What about you two? You would work well together, and I know you could handle it."

Hermione and Draco looked at each other.

"I will if Draco does," Hermione said carefully. Draco considered for a moment or two.

"Alright," he conceded. "I'll give partnering a try. When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning," Kingsley said gravely. "I'll have a Portkey prepared for you."


	4. Chapter 3

_Draco first saw Tria on Platform 9 & ¾._

_He was standing with his parents, surveying the Platform as though he owned it, mirroring the way his father looked. His mother was fussing over him, making sure he had everything he needed, telling him to write often, and other things mothers did before their only son went off to boarding school._

_He saw students hugging and kissing parents, saying final goodbyes. But one girl stood out from all the rest to Draco. She had a round face, bright blue eyes, and curly blonde hair. She stood next to her dark-haired mother and a father who was just as blonde as she. Draco was enraptured by this girl, who seemed both plain and uncannily beautiful at the same time, the type of person who was plain to most, but beautiful to the man who loved her. She carried herself with grace and elegance on longs legs, and Draco became instantly curious about her. He later learned that her name was just as lovely as she was: Triabelle Rose Summers…._

Draco felt the sting of a small hand hitting his face. In a fit of temper, Tria had slapped him. He supposed he deserved it.

It was their second year, and Draco had just become Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team. And he had just called Hermione Granger a Mudblood.

He should have expected it. Tria had a temper that was surprisingly nasty, paired with a fierce loyalty to her friends. This alone would have been enough, but Tria was a Gryffindor, and she was Hermione's best friend.

As the sting seceded, Draco began to realize that Tria was shrieking things at him, most likely angry insults. The others were yelling at him too, but Draco only had eyes for Tria. The tiny girl was angrier than Draco had ever seen her. She was the shortest in their year, but made up for it with another foot of temper. Her hair was big and blonde, and it added to her height when she piled it on top of her head. Her eyes were the most intriguing part about her though: they were a bright, electric blue, a completely unique color. Anger distorted her face into something ugly, though he had seen how it lit up when she smiled. He was slowly becoming aware of his obsession with the Gryffindor, and he was wanting to know more and more about her. He realized that a commotion had occurred, and Weasley was now barfing slugs….

_The cluster of third years made their way into the forest, following Hagrid as timidly and easily scared as deer. When they reached the hippogriffs paddock, the class let out an "Oooh!" of pleasure. They were beautiful creatures, Draco had to admit. Shining in the sun, gleaming fur and feathers. He couldn't help himself, and he glanced at Tria._

_Her eyes were shining with joy, and the sun's reflection off of the irises increased their beauty. She had thinned out from last year, but was still as short as ever. 4'10" and done growing, he had heard her tell her friends. She was pretty, not quite beautiful, but there was something about her that made you look twice._

_As Potter flew away on one of the Hippogriffs, Draco scowled. Everyone thought he was so great. It turned out that Draco was assigned to the same hippogriff, and just to show others that Potter wasn't all wonderful, he insulted the beast quite loudly._

_A slash of talons, and then pain. It wasn't a bad injury, but it still stung and bled. He heard the Mudblood Granger telling Hagrid to take him to the hospital wing. He let out an exaggerated moan of pain, milking the situation to his benefit; perhaps it would get Hagrid fired. Then he heard her voice. Tria was reassuring Hagrid that he was an idiot and it was all his fault. That stung more than the injury itself._

_The rest of the year, her hatred of him only increased, if that was even possible. Draco was disheartened; alienating Tria had not been his goal. Perhaps next year…._

Draco was slamming books into his bag after Transfiguration. The Mudblood had just earned twenty points for Gryffindor by, once again, being the only in class to master the spell. He was feeling this day couldn't get any worse when he heard, "You guys go on, I'm still packing up."

He would recognize Tria's voice anywhere. And suddenly they were the only two left in the classroom. Her back was to him, so she didn't realize this. He finished packing and walked over to her.

"Tria," he said. She turned around.

Surprise flashed across her eyes as she turned. Then suspicion.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she demanded.

"Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

More surprise. Then it was anger.

"Just so you can ditch me and go laugh about it with your friends?" she sneered. "Not likely. Get out of my way, Malfoy, I'm not in the mood for your bullshit."

"Tria," he said. "This isn't a joke. I'm honestly asking you to be my date to the Yule Ball."

"Why should I believe you?" she snapped.

Draco realized that this wasn't going to be easy. But he wasn't really surprised. After all, Tria's feisty temper was one of the things he liked best about her.

"Really, Tria? I'm coming over my doubts and insecurities to ask you to a ball, and you think I'm going to ditch you? Am I really that mean?"

"Yes," Tria said instantly. "Yes you are, Draco."

He noted the use of his first name with satisfaction. "And will you give me a second chance?"

"You never had your first chance," Tria said angrily. "You were a git from the start, and now you're asking me to be your date for the Yule Ball. What do you expect me to think?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. That I've changed?"

She glared at him. "I'll think about it."

He grinned. He knew she was a big second chance person. He hoped to make the most of his.

A week later, she slipped him a note. It contained one word.

_YES_


End file.
